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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26635735">Careful Closeness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cavalierious/pseuds/Cavalierious'>Cavalierious</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Sylvain's internalized self-hatred</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:13:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26635735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cavalierious/pseuds/Cavalierious</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been beaten into him that men aren't supposed to feel things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Careful Closeness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW for brief mentions of Sylvain being tossed into a well, and a mild description of what could be viewed as a panic attack.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Apologies/Making Up / </em> <strike> <em> Warmth </em> </strike> <em> / Video and Table-Top Games AU </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Sylvain hits the ice-cold water, it’s like smacking against a stone wall. Pain blooms through his bones and he winces which is a mistake because he breathes in a mouthful of water that he can’t properly cough back out. </p><p>Sylvain’s a good swimmer but that means nothing when you’ve fallen into a black Hellmouth, sleek walls of slick stone rising a perch above with no end in sight minus the soft glow of the night stars above. Sylvain can just barely see them through the misted haze of his kicking and screaming to keep afloat. </p><p>He can hear Miklan’s laughter as he scrambles to grab at the side, but his fingers only slide through algae and mold, and his head dips under the water. He manages to pull back up and grab a fresh breath of air, but he’s already so tired and he’s barely begun. </p><p>Sylvain is defiant for as long as possible, keeping his head up and sucking in deep breaths when he can, but sometimes it’s more water than air and it doesn’t help. His legs turn to lead, he can’t move his arms and he starts to sink.</p><p>And sink.</p><p>And sink.</p><p>His lungs burn, the bitter cold of the well water settling deep into his skin. But it’s quiet. Sylvain likes the quiet. </p><p>So, he stops fighting.</p><p>#</p><p>Sylvain jerks awake, panic seizing him with a vice grip, unrelenting as it hangs on. Sylvain’s panicking, he can’t breathe, it feels like he’s suffocating, head deep underwater again with no way up, up, <em> up.  </em></p><p>Someone shakes him violently, fingers tight around his shoulders. Sylvain’s trying to find them, trying to swim back to them, but his head’s a mess and his brain and foggy, and he’s not sure that he knows how to breathe anymore. </p><p>“It’s a dream,” says Felix. “Sylvain, that’s all it is, it’s a dream.”</p><p>Sylvain snaps too, Felix’s voice like an anchor in the deep sea. He finds his footing, his vision clears and his eyes focus on Felix's face in the dark of the tent. Sylvain’s tent. Why is Felix there?</p><p>“Felix,” says Sylvain, his voice a whisper. Felix doesn’t let go, but his grip loosens slightly, thumb rubbing circles against the soft linen of Sylvain’s shirt. Sylvain swallows, then says, “What are you doing in here?”</p><p>“You were screaming,” says Felix. “Woke up damn near half the camp.”</p><p>“A dream,” says Sylvain, repeating Felix’s earlier words. </p><p>Felix regards him for a long moment and then asks, “About what?”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” says Sylvain. And it doesn’t, it hasn’t mattered for a long time. Miklan’s been dead for years, the well was over a decade ago and Sylvain’s here in the now and present. He can’t change the past, nor can he rid himself of the demons that still chase him. </p><p>Felix scowls at that, lips tugged into a serious frown. Sylvain hates that look, not because it’s mean or callous, but because Felix looks like he’s about to say something that he never will. So, Sylvain sighs, rubbing tiredly at his face. </p><p>“Miklan,” says Sylvain weakly. “The well.” </p><p>Felix’s face softens at that. Felix had been the one to find him all those years ago. Sylvain would’ve died otherwise, but he didn’t, he’d survived. That was also the night the Felix learned exactly what kind of monster that Miklan was and that Sylvain’s bruises had never been from falling down the stairs or clumsiness. </p><p>He and Felix have never once talked about it since and even now, Felix seems to hesitate. </p><p>“It’s okay,” says Sylvain. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“You’re clearly not,” says Felix in a biting tone. “How long has this been going on?”</p><p>Sylvain knows that there isn’t a point in lying, not with Felix leaning over him and watching him closely. Felix knows all of his tells, even if they don’t talk frankly. So, Sylvain says, “Always.”</p><p>Felix doesn’t like that answer based on the crinkle that forms at the corner of his mouth. Sylvain expects Felix to not push at it, but he’s surprised when Felix says, “Idiot. You should have told me.”</p><p>“It’s not your concern,” says Sylvain. </p><p>“The moment we pulled you from that damn well, you became my concern.”</p><p>Sylvain’s mouth snaps shut at his declaration. Well then. Felix pulls back, sitting awkwardly at the edge of the cot. Then he moves to stand and leave. Sylvain reaches out, grabbing his wrist. </p><p>“Stay?” asks Sylvain. </p><p>It’s Gautier cold outside and Sylvain doesn’t need to peek out to know that heavy snowdrift blankets the land around them. Felix stiffens under the touch, but not because he’s annoyed, it’s because it’s like coal has been lit low in his belly, red-hot and simmering slowly. Sylvain can tell. He knows how it feels.</p><p><em> This </em> has always been a tangible thing between the two of them, but they don’t talk about it, they don’t think about it, they sweep it away under the rug because they have a war to win and the world might end if they don’t. </p><p>And then what would be the point?</p><p>But it could be the point for just this one night. </p><p>“Stay,” repeats Sylvain, tugging at Felix’s arm just slightly. </p><p>Felix follows, leaning back over Sylvain and his cot. His hair is down and hangs like a curtain around their faces. He looks strangely vulnerable. Sylvain does too. </p><p>“Alright,” says Felix. He pulls from Sylvain once more, but only to slip underneath the thin covers. The cot’s not big enough for the both of them, really, but they make it work, Sylvain’s back pressed into Felix’s chest. Felix is smaller and it’s easier for him to wrap around Sylvain than the other way, nose tucked into the back of his neck. </p><p>It doesn’t feel like Felix is putting up with him, not with the way that his arm snakes around Sylvain’s waist tightly, hugging him close.</p><p>“You can talk to me,” says Felix. “You can always be honest with me.”</p><p>“Yeah,” says Sylvain quietly, but the word hangs heavy in the tent. They lay there silently for a few moments, Sylvain staring at the at the rough canvas that’s hung up. Suddenly, it’s hot in there, it’s boiling, Felix pressed against his back, breath puffing against Sylvain’s neck and a million things that can be said hanging between them. </p><p>“I love you,” says Sylvain, unable to stop himself. </p><p>To his credit, Felix doesn’t run away, he presses closer, pulling Sylvain tighter against him. “I know,” he says against his neck before pressing a soft kiss there. Quick. Simple. Perfectly Felix in his no-nonsense kind of way. </p><p>Sylvain wants to cry like he’s never been able to because it’s been beaten into him that men aren’t supposed to feel things. He doesn’t sob outright, but his body shakes like he’s going to, and Felix is already trying to soothe him, whispering soft words in the quiet warmth of the tent.</p><p>Felix falls asleep first, his rising and falling chest beating a steady rhythm that helps ground Sylvain. He’s warm and soft, wrapped around him, a comforting presence that Sylvain hadn’t been aware that he’d needed.</p><p>And now it’s kind of worse because Sylvain’s not sure how he’ll stop drowning if Felix isn’t there to hold him up in the stormy, icy waters of his shitty, internalized self-hatred.</p><p>In the morning Felix is still there though, breathing softly against Sylvain, holding tight like he has no intention of letting go. And this time Sylvain actually cries, soft and silent tears, but happy ones not sad because he feels a small sense of worth. </p><p>When Felix wakes up a little bit later, he lifts up on an elbow as Sylvain shifts onto his back, trying to rub away the redness from his swollen eyes. Felix just watches him, hand splayed across Sylvain’s chest. Soothing. Comforting. Unquestioning. </p><p>“I love you too,” says Felix when the moment slows down, neither of them ready to pack up and be on the move again. </p><p>On a normal day, Sylvain would think him joking in gruffness, about to smack him across the shoulder as he calls him dumb. But this isn’t a normal day and Felix doesn’t do that. </p><p>So, Sylvain tugs him down for a kiss. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I made a <a href="https://twitter.com/_Cavalierious_">Twitter</a> specifically to cater to the fact I've started writing again.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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